


the difference between real love and the love on tv

by aestheticisms (R_Vienna)



Category: Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions, Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions
Genre: F/M, Gen, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Vienna/pseuds/aestheticisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falkner doesn't do six am wake-up calls unless properly warned twenty-four hours in advanced. -- Morty/Candice, Falkner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the difference between real love and the love on tv

"Good lord, get a hold of yourself!" 

"Falkner, you are seriously the last person I expected would ever say that to me." 

Morty added an exaggerated roll of eyes to make his point clear and concise. Falkner let out a loud sigh, and shoved his hands into his coat pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. his blue hair was tinted with white, small snowflakes forming a fuzzy halo. The Snowpoint City square was desolate, quiet, and Falkner was trying his best not to start up another conversation—the silence was ominous at worst, killer at best. Morty hadn’t said a single unprompted word since their arrival in Sinnoh, and it was kind of unnerving. sure, the guy wasn’t big on talking to begin with, but Falkner would’ve thought that being in a completely different region and in an incredibly cold climate, would’ve made Morty more chit-chatty. Or something. God, it was getting really awkward having these long monologues. This wasn’t normal, right? 

The blue haired aerial master shuddered and made a note to stop talking to himself. The muttering was getting Morty’s attention.

The older man scoffed, and readjusted his purple scarf for the umpteenth time that day. His amber gaze looked for something beyond the unoccupied benches and thick vegetation, something besides their sad and present reality.

"Okay." 

"Okay, what? that was kind of cryptic, asshole." Falkner rubbed his forearms in a meager attempt to fuck entropy and regain some of his lost body heat. He then continued to fix his coat collar, and then patted down his dark blue jeans, and then turned his attention back to the blonde who was making his way towards the tell tale sign of a pokemon center. 

And then made a sharp turn to the right, towards an undisclosed location, oh yeah, that was  _great_ , thanks Morty, you’re the best,  _where the hell are you going?_

_  
_Falkner didn’t realize he was voicing his very upset concerns until Morty replied with a monotone “follow me”, without missing a beat in his own excursion.

After a bleary trot through Snowpoint streets and slushy roads, they stood before a...

“G _ood lord, Morty. A_ gym. And here I thought we came to Sinnoh to hit some waves. Go to the beach. mingle with the up and coming.” Falkner huffed, more irritable than his usual nonchalance and monotony that rivaled his companion’s. The cold was getting through the seven perfectly picked layers of clothing he was wearing. G _od_ , he hated the cold. 

Well. Shit.

Morty was nowhere to be found. Falkner scanned the premises for his friend, and only found the entrance to the Snowpoint Gym. Great, just great. He trekked through the knee deep snow and finally slipped through the not-menacing-at-all oak doors. 

Only to wish he never came into the place at all. 

The stoic and enigmatic Morty, yes, the Morty that hailed from ecruteak city, the one with all the mystery and allure, the one who held a sizeable female population on a string, the asshole who took him from his training and put him on a boat to Snowpoint City with the full knowledge of Falkner's hatred for the cold, was having tea and crumpets with a black haired girl with a dangerously short skirt.

_Great._

_Juuuuuuuuuuuust great._

"You know, your tea gets better with every visit." A sip from a small porcelain cup. an approving nod. A small smile. The girl laughs, and Falkner swears on his father’s honor, she fucking sparkled. She turned, and there we go, diamond dust. She was fucking covered in diamond dust. 

What the hell.

Falkner wasn’t sure what he was reacting to anymore. The cold, the girl, the fact morty was laughing like a normal human being. What. What even. 

"Thanks, Morty. It’s always nice to see your charming face around these parts!" she grins. It’s like she walked out of a Colgate commercial. Her teeth were pearly white. Not even an exaggeration. They were fucking glistening. 

"It’s been a while since your last visit, actually." She makes a thinking face, scrunches up her face and tilts her head to the side, black braids tumbling down her back. "Why’s that?" 

Morty shrugs and pulls at his sweater. “I just haven’t had the time to travel.” 

Right. r _iiiiiiight._

_“B_ ut I missed the city. It’s just as nice as I remembered.” 

_Bullshit._ Falkner wanted to scream. But he wasn’t going to. That wasn’t honorable. Or polite. Or okay. Instead he resigned himself to crossing his arms and taking a seat next to the vending machine near the gym’s entrance, careful not to slip on any of the ice floor panels. 

The couple chatted more, and exchanged long glances, neither party all too willing to break eye contact. She had a hand on his knee, and he had a hand pressed against her cheek. It was probably the most tender gesture Falkner's ever seen out of the male, and it was positively disgusting, could he go home now? 

The moment ended, and they resumed their conversation, airy and light. They swapped stories. Finished their crumpets and scones. Shared a cookie. 

Good lord, if Falkner had known this was what waited for him, he would’ve feigned sleep seventeen hours ago when Morty called him at four in the morning with a vague mention of a bad fortune if he didn’t get ready immediately. 

Uhhhghh.

Falkner left the gym maybe five minutes later. He walked over to the pokemon center, booked a room, because who knew where Morty was sleepin’ tonight, and hiked up to the third floor with the intention of falling asleep the moment he hit his bed.

And so he did.

Only to be shaken awake about seven hours later. 

"Hey, Falkner?"

Falkner stumbled out of his twin bed and landed on the gross carpet floor with a loud thump. He hissed in response.

_"What?"_

Morty stood at the foot of his bed, hands in coat pockets, and eyes to to the ceiling. 

"Thanks." 

The boy blinked. Hard. From the gross and probably unsanitized carpet. 

"Uh. You’re welcome. I guess? What time is it?"

"It’s about eight. The next day." All nonchalance and monotony. That was more like the Morty Falkner knew. He got out of his sorry position and casually sat back down on the messed up bedsheets.

"Um. Cool. So…"

The question trailed off. He tried again. “Who was the girl? Well, I know who she is, and stuff, but why—?”

Morty’s lips cracked a small smile.

"Her name is Candice, you know, Snowpoint City’s gym leader." 

Yeah, thanks, Captain Obvious.

"We dated for a long time." 

Whaaaaaat.

"It was kind of crazy," he chuckled before continuing. "But she moved away and we broke it off. It was a mutual thing. But we make the effort to visit each other on our anniversary." 

Oh.

"I kind of missed her. She was a great girl. Still is." 

Falkner raised an eyebrow. Shrugged.

Ok, fine.

Morty rolled his eyes. “No need for commentary from the peanut gallery. I’ll come pick you up later, our boat leaves at 3.” 

And with that he was gone.

Falkner did not get ready. Nor did he go back to sleep. Instead, he padded to the lonely bay window on the other side of the room, and watched the snowflakes dance in the winter air. 

It seemed appropriate. 

**Author's Note:**

> GOOD GRIEF I WANT TO PERSONALLY APOLOGIZE TO THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS ON MY WRITING BLOG (lilycovecity @ tumblr holla) LIKE DEAR LORD IT WAS SITTING IN MY ASKBOX FOR A YEAR. ONE. WHOLE. YEAR. I'M SO SORRY. GOMEN. 
> 
> But man writing snarky Falkner was so worth it I'm glad I did write this. Yeah. Wow. Okay. 
> 
> kisses !!! 
> 
> \- angie


End file.
